Chapter 20 — Blackmail

Elara stirred awake in the dim light of the dorm room, the faint morning glow creeping through the small window. The enchanted blanket still held her tightly swaddled, her body pressed close to Quinn’s warmth in the narrow crib. The air was heavy with the scent of powder and the lingering musk of their shared vulnerability.

Beside her, Quinn nuzzled into her neck, her breath hot against Elara’s skin. “You’re such a good girl,” she murmured, voice thick with sleep and something else, something induced by her own runes. “Soak that diaper for me, okay? Let it all out.”

Elara’s cheeks burned, but the urging of the rune on her tummy made resistance futile. She let go, feeling the warm rush spread through the thick padding beneath her. Quinn’s hand slid down, pressing between Elara’s legs over the soaked diaper, rubbing slow circles through the material. But where there should have been a spark, a thrill, there was nothing. The rune Mommy had altered last night had stripped away any pleasure, leaving only mortification in its wake as Elara lay there, helpless to feel anything beyond embarrassment.

Quinn, however, shuddered beside her, her own breathing hitching as her hand moved faster. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good,” she gasped, body trembling through one orgasm, then another, and another, each wave making her grip tighten on Elara. Her moans were soft but desperate, filling the quiet room until she finally stilled, panting heavily. “Thank you,” she whispered, kissing Elara’s cheek before they both drifted back into an uneasy sleep, exhaustion pulling them under once more.

When morning truly broke, Elara woke again to a different kind of ache—not between her thighs as she might have expected before Mommy’s “refocusing,” but deep in her core, like an instinctual pull. The rune over her tummy glowed warmer now in a need to care for Quinn, to guide her into embracing her role fully. She glanced at her friend still curled beside her, noticing the subtle tension in Quinn’s expression even in sleep—a telltale sign of discomfort.

She knew what it was. The rune pulsed insistently, feeding her thoughts. Quinn needed to poop. And more than anything, Elara felt an overwhelming urge to help her do it right there in her diaper. It wasn’t sexual; there was no heat or longing in her body for herself. Instead, it was almost parental—an insatiable drive to nurture Quinn into being the perfect baby this twisted system demanded.

“Hey,” Elara whispered softly around the pacifier still lodged in her mouth, nudging Quinn with what little movement she could manage in the tight blanket.

Quinn blinked awake slowly, groaning as she shifted. Her face scrunched up slightly, one hand pressing to her stomach. “I… I don’t feel so good,” she mumbled, clearly trying to hold back.

Elara felt the rune push harder at her mind, guiding her words. She spat out the pacifier awkwardly with a turn of her head, since her arms were bound. She was surprised it came out so easily. Normally it wouldn’t. “It’s alright,” she said gently, voice taking on an unfamiliar tone of authority despite their shared predicament. “You don’t have to hold it in. I’m here with you.”

Quinn’s eyes widened slightly, cheeks flushing as she squirmed. “I can’t… not like this,” she protested weakly, glancing away.

“Yes, you can,” Elara insisted, surprised by how natural it felt to encourage this even as part of her recoiled inwardly at what she was doing. The rune dulled any personal shame now; all that mattered was helping Quinn submit.“Just let go for me. It’ll feel better after. I’ve got you.”

Quinn bit her lip hard, hands clutching at the crib mattress beneath them as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes from both discomfort and humiliation. “This is fucked up,” she whispered under her breath but didn’t fight further when Elara kept murmuring reassurances—words like “good girl” and “it’s okay” spilling out automatically under the rune’s influence.

Finally, with a small whimper escaping past clenched teeth followed by a shuddering sigh of relief mixed with defeat, Elara heard it happen; smelled it too soon after, the unmistakable evidence that Quinn had given in and filled her diaper.

“There we go,” Elara cooed without thinking twice about how strange yet fulfilling saying such things felt. "You're doing so well.”

Elara felt the warmth of Quinn’s trembling body pressed against her, the other girl’s face buried deep into her shoulder. Soft, muffled sobs vibrated through her as Quinn’s humiliation poured out in quiet tears. The enchanted blanket still pinned Elara’s arms and legs, but she could feel the sticky, heavy mess caked against Quinn’s backside through the rune.

“You did so good,” Elara murmured, the rune-driven compulsion to praise still lingering faintly, though it was starting to fade. “It’s okay, you’re perfect just like this.” Her voice softened further as the weight of that forced duty finally lifted, leaving a hollow ache in its place.

“I’m sorry,” she added, genuine regret seeping into her tone now that the magic wasn’t pushing her words.

Quinn shrugged, her sniffles hitching as she tried to steady her breathing. “It’s not like I didn’t do the exact same thing to you this morning…” Her voice was small, raw with shame.

Elara shifted slightly, the cold, clammy weight of her own soaked diaper clinging uncomfortably to her hip. “At least you got to cum,” she muttered bitterly, unable to keep the edge out of her voice.

Quinn flinched at the words, her body tensing beside her. “Sorry…” she mumbled, her apology almost lost in another shaky breath.

Elara let out a sigh, her bitterness dulling into resignation. “It is what it is. We’re both trapped in this nightmare.”

They stayed like that, nestled awkwardly yet intimately in each other’s arms within the narrow crib. The dim morning light hadn’t brightened much, casting long shadows across the dorm room’s stone walls. Neither spoke again, both too drained to dig deeper into their feelings or fight against what had been done to them.

They simply waited, knowing it wouldn’t be long before Mommy or Daddy returned to pull them back into whatever twisted routine came next.

***

The hallway of House Ruby buzzed with the faint hum of students moving between classes, their footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls. Elara and Quinn stood tucked into a quieter alcove, away from the main stream of bodies. Both were freshly changed after lunch, their clean diapers hidden beneath their crisp school uniforms, though the bulk was still a constant, humiliating reminder.

Elara let her head tip back against the cold wall, staring up at the vaulted ceiling as if answers might be carved into the stone. “I’m just sick of it!” she exclaimed, her voice sharp with frustration. “I’m sick of the games, I’m sick of being controlled, I’m sick of everything, Quinn.”

Quinn sighed, leaning her shoulder against the wall beside Elara, her arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t like it any more than you do,” she admitted. Her eyes darted down the hall briefly, ensuring no one was close enough to overhear their discontent.

“What do we do?” Elara asked, turning her head to meet Quinn’s gaze. Her expression was a mix of desperation and exhaustion, searching for even a sliver of a solution in her friend’s face.

Quinn shrugged, her lips pressing into a thin line. “What is there to do? Not like we can just go home.” Her voice carried a bitter edge.

Elara raised an eyebrow, studying Quinn’s profile. “Do you even want to go home?” she pressed, curiosity cutting through her frustration.

Quinn hesitated, then shrugged again, scuffing the toe of her shoe against the floor. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it,” she muttered, almost to herself. “But I want to learn magic more than anything. I don’t think I’d go even if I had the opportunity.”

Elara nodded slowly, understanding flickering in her eyes. She could relate to that pull—the lure of power and knowledge, even if it came at such a steep cost.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t think about it, though,” Quinn added quietly.

“I wonder how that would work with the rune,” Elara mused aloud, her fingers brushing absentmindedly against her tummy where the enchanted mark sat. Her brow furrowed as she pondered the implications.

Quinn grumbled under her breath, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t want to risk it. Imagine we go home with it, and still feel its effects.” Her tone darkened, a shudder passing through her at the thought of being trapped by that magic outside this controlled hell.

Elara’s face flushed a deep crimson, her mind racing with vivid, mortifying scenarios—being back in a normal world but still compelled to act out these degrading roles, unable to explain or escape the rune’s influence. She swallowed hard, pushing those images away.

No, they were well and truly stuck here for now, bound by more than just physical walls.

Quinn’s eyes glinted with a mischievous spark as she leaned closer to Elara, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “We could always take back a bit of control.”

Elara let out a sharp laugh, her head tilting to meet Quinn’s gaze with a mix of skepticism and amusement. “And how do you suppose we do that? Overpower them? They know far more magic than we and would have us pinned in seconds.”

Quinn nodded, conceding the point, but a sly smirk tugged at her lips. “Sure, but what about information? What if we got some dirt on them?”

Elara paused, her brow furrowing as the idea sank in. A slow grin spread across her face, mirroring Quinn’s. “Find something they don’t want anyone to know?” she asked, her tone laced with intrigue.

Quinn gave an eager nod. “Exactly!”

“You want us to blackmail our caregivers?” Elara’s voice dropped, her grin fading into a look of uncertainty as the weight of the suggestion hit her. “Do you know how much trouble we’ll get in?”

“IF we get caught,” Quinn countered, wagging a playful finger in front of Elara’s face, her smirk widening. “Big ‘if.’”

“It seems risky…” Elara muttered, shifting uncomfortably against the stone wall. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her uniform skirt, nerves creeping up her spine at the thought of defying their controllers so directly.

“Come on,” Quinn pressed, her tone light and teasing as she nudged Elara’s shoulder with her own. “You said yourself you’re sick of the games. Let’s take a look at their rooms. If anyone sees us, we play innocent—say we were hoping to get changed or needed help with something.”

Elara chewed on her lip, her mind racing through the potential consequences, harsh punishments, tightened control, or worse if their plan backfired. But beneath the fear, a flicker of rebellion burned, fueled by months of humiliation and powerlessness. Her heart thumped hard in her chest, a mix of dread and excitement churning in her gut.

Finally, she let out a reluctant sigh, meeting Quinn’s expectant gaze. “Fine…” she mumbled, barely above a whisper, sealing their pact.

Quinn’s smirk turned into a full grin, a spark of triumph flashing in her eyes. “That’s my girl. We can do this.”

Elara nodded slowly, already second-guessing herself but unable to back out now under Quinn’s infectious determination. “What exactly are we looking for?” she asked, trying to mask the tremor in her voice.

“Anything,” Quinn replied with a shrug. “Letters, journals, weird artifacts—hell, even some sketchy potion ingredients stashed away. Something personal or forbidden that gives us leverage. They’ve got secrets; everyone does here.”

“And if there’s nothing?” Elara pushed, crossing her arms over her chest, still grappling with the audacity of their scheme.

“Then we tried,” Quinn shot back without hesitation. “Better than sitting around waiting for the next fucked-up game they throw at us. At least this way, we’re doing something for ourselves.”

Together, they left the alcove and started down the hall. Elara’s pulse raced as she and Quinn crept down the dimly lit hallway toward the caregivers’ dorms. The stone walls seemed to close in around them. Upperclassmen they passed cast questioning glances, their eyes narrowing with suspicion, but none stopped to challenge them. Elara kept her head down, avoiding eye contact, her hands clenched into fists to hide the trembling.

“You got your Mommy’s?” Quinn whispered, her voice barely audible as they neared the split in the corridor.

Elara nodded, her throat tight. “Yeah. Meet back here in twenty?”

“Got it,” Quinn replied with a quick nod before peeling off toward her Daddy’s dorm, leaving Elara alone.

Taking a deep breath, Elara pushed open the heavy wooden door to Mommy’s room, the hinges creaking just enough to make her wince. Her heart fluttered wildly as she slipped inside, closing it behind her with a soft click. The room was empty, no sign of the woman anywhere—only the faint scent of lavender and powder lingering in the air. The space was tidy, almost sterile, with a neatly made bed in one corner, a small desk piled with parchment and quills, and… a changing table against the far wall.

Elara’s brow furrowed as she stepped closer to it. A changing table here? It mirrored the one in her own dorm, complete with stacks of supplies beneath it. Her stomach twisted at the thought—it had to be for her, right? Though she’d never been brought here before, the implication was clear enough. Shaking off the unease, she began snooping, her fingers brushing over surfaces as she searched for anything out of place, anything incriminating.

She rifled through drawers filled with mundane items—hairbrushes, spare robes, nothing of note. The desk held only schedules and notes about House Ruby duties, nothing personal or damning. With a frustrated sigh, she sank onto the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. She’d been so hopeful to find something—anything—to turn the tables on this twisted dynamic. But it seemed like a bust; the woman must keep anything important on her person.

Just as she stood to leave, something tugged at her—a faint instinct or curiosity pulling her back toward the changing table. She hesitated, then approached it again, crouching down to thumb through the stack of diapers stored underneath. At first glance, they looked ordinary enough… but then she noticed they weren’t like hers at all. These weren’t the cutesy, babyish ones she was forced into with pastel prints and cartoon characters. These were plain white, clinical-looking, almost medical in style.

Her curiosity piqued, Elara pulled one out and unfolded it with shaky hands. It crinkled loudly in the silent room as she held it up, inspecting its size. Her breath caught in her throat. It was larger—larger than what she wore. Too big for her by far.

Her eyes widened to saucers as realization slammed into her like a tidal wave. These weren’t meant for a student like her. They were the perfect size for a slightly larger woman, like Mommy herself.